Every day there’s some unexpected newsflash being broadcast—hurricanes (shouldn’t they be running out of names for them about now?), west-coast wildfires, social unrest, protests turned violent, verbal onslaughts (political and social), new outbreaks of coronavirus . . . you get my gist. From time to time the media will throw in a warm-and-fuzzy to buffer things, but for the most part our sense of well-being is being assaulted.
Some may thrive on mayhem, but for people like myself who value the peacefulness that order brings, it is sensory overload on a daily basis.
I was recently experiencing one of those overloads when out of the blue, words to an age-old song drifted through my mind.
When peace like a river attendeth my soul
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
It is well
With my soul
It is well, it is well with my soul.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
It is well
With my soul
It is well, it is well with my soul.
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, oh my soul.
I love when the Lord sings the perfect song in our night seasons (Psalm 42:8). When I’ve lost my sense of well-being, His Truth always restores perfect order.
Some time back, I received a prophetic word regarding my love for order. “God created order out of chaos when He created the world,” the prophetic person said, “so that’s a good thing that you love order.”
But even good things get off balance at times. I pray for God's kingdom to come and His will to be done in America. Then when chaos hits, I scurry around with my little dust-broom prayers, trying to make everything neat and orderly so my little world can feel peaceful and safe again. It’s that unsanctified part of me that still feels responsible to fix things, to keep things in order. A one-man clean-up crew, if you will.
The Lord reminded me again through that song, that our peace and safety—especially these days—will never be accomplished by controlling our environment. It’s not my responsibility to keep everything in order, when He’s the one stirring the pot. The little Dutch boy who saved his town from flooding by sticking his finger in a crack in the dike is a fictitious story. My little prayers trying to fix the extensive fractures in America’s weakening dike won’t stop what must come to pass in order for us to be saved, healed, and delivered. Broken and contrite hearts are what God is after (Psalm 51:17).
How He accomplishes it is out of my control. And out of my comfort zone. I form the light and create darkness, I make peace [national well-being] and I create [physical] evil (calamity); I am the Lord, Who does all these things (Isaiah 45:7). Since God created order out of chaos when He created the world, He will also, in His perfect timing and way, bring order to this chaos we presently find ourselves in. So, I must stay in Christ; it is well with my soul because of He is my Prince of Peace. I must keep praying for revival. I must let go of stressing over the construction debris while the refining and restoration of our nation is underway.
He is answering my prayers, your prayers for America. No more Band-Aids. The festering wounds need to be lanced. The Refiner’s fire must burn, for the Lord [the Messiah], Whom you seek, will suddenly come to His temple . . . For He is like a refiner’s fire . . . (Malachi 3:1–2).
So, each shocker in the news can either inspire us to trustingly join with the Spirit and the bride saying, “Come!” (Revelation 22:17)—or we can add more unsanctified fingers to the many fractures in America’s weakening dike in hopes that we might find some semblance of peace and order outside of God.
(It is Well with My Soul by Horatio Spafford, 1873)